USS Taledon Prequels
by Tribb
Summary: This was titled U.S.S. Taledon, but I'm going to use it as a prequel. U.S.S. Taledon is coming soon.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
  
"Fascinating."  
  
Taking her eye away from the telescope, she pulled out a data padd and a padd pencil. Setting the padd and pencil on her lap, she turned back to the telescope.  
  
"Computer, magnify image to 400 magnification," she said as she recorded her command on the padd.  
  
A beep of computer acknowledgement and a larger, clearer image appearing in the eyepiece told her that the computer had done its job.  
  
"Fascinating," she said again, as she examined the image. Then picking up the pencil, she began to draw the image on the padd. A circle becoming a short, wide cylinder appeared; then came two long cylinders lying on their sides on top near the back, with two more long cylinders lying on their sides became attached to the bottom of the craft, near the back as well.  
  
"A ship," she whispered with a puzzled look, for this ship looked like no Warbird she had ever seen. Turning back to the telescope to examine the details of the mysterious ship, she saw that it had changed position, and only the back portion was visible.  
  
"Computer, lock on image. Turn telescope as necessary."  
  
Another beep and a turn of the chair in which she was sitting along with the telescope, and she scribbled her command in her log again. Now able to focus on the ship, she began to draw the details. After two hours of drawing, erasing, and drawing again revealed the ship to be a Federation ship.  
  
"No, I'm not done yet," she said to the ship in space as it turned to move out of the telescope's range. She had the ship's exterior schematics and could probably identify the class to which the ship belonged, but she couldn't quite make out the name of the ship. Yes, of course the ship had the letters "U.S.S." as its beginning, but the rest was unknown.  
  
After study of ships using the computer in her room, Alley Orion Falan had found the class of the mysterious starship that, five Federation standard years ago, had been crusing in what was now the Neutral Zone. Alley had seen the strange ship on a class field trip to the Astronomy Lab on T'Lan, the largest moon. Because of its large size, T'Lan, could be classified as a planet, except for the fact that it had no atmosphere. Always orbiting the Romulan sun on the far side of Romulus, T'Lan had a great view of the stars and galaxies beyond. Since the computer had limited information on Federation ships, Alley would have to wait for another glimpse of the Constellation-class starship to find out which ship it was. After recording her findings in her personal log, Alley got up and stretched. She gazed at the red rays of dawn grazing the purple mountain peaks and wondered about the worlds beyond the stars, just waiting to be explored by her. Grabbing her bat'leth and her kh'tarah, Alley slipped on her dark red cloak and put a few meth'ns - Romulan money - in her satchel that she swung over her head and shoulder so the strap crossed her chest leading to the satchel by her right side. Slipping downstairs and out towards the woods, Alley headed toward town.  
  
Stepping out into the street, Alley could see the various merchants setting up colorful carts and opening doors for business. Smiling to herself, she continued down the road, nodding politely to those who gave her friendly smiles, until she spotted a cart with various shades of purple fabric covering the top. Now her smile was more of a grin as she stepped up to the Romulan man who was arranging items on the left side of the front of the cart.  
  
"Good morning, Ghakar," Alley whispered in Klingon. As the man turned around to see who was speaking to him, the faint forehead ridges of a Klingon were visible. He smiled and replied in Klingon, "And good morning to you, Alley. Going for another ride, eh?"  
  
"Yes," Alley replied back, speaking in Klingon all the while. "Two faras, please." She held 3 meth'ns in her hand. After Ghakar took the coins, he handed her what would have looked like two Terran sugar cubes had it not been for their bluish color.  
  
"Don't you have studies?" Ghakar said. Then he laughed, because Alley's next look let him know that he had hit the mark.  
  
"Yes, but Father said that I need only meditate to separate that which is logical from that which is not logical; right now there is nothing illogical about what I am doing, so I can't separate the two, can I?" Alley replied with a roguish smile as she tucked the two blue cubes into her pocket. "Plus, school does not begin until four hours from now. I have plenty of time."  
  
"Heh, heh, heh. I should tell you that your logic is impeccable. You should be a diplomat," Ghakar chortled, knowing the Alley despised the fact everyone said she should be a diplomat.  
  
"And why is that? Because I am a Romulan-born half-human, half- Vulcan, and I could perhaps bridge the gap between the Romulans and the Vulcans as well as maybe the Empire and the Federation?"  
  
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Yes, yes, but you also have skill to state your view so logically and so without emotion that would make a pure Vulcan envious, and slap someone upside the head with an insult - in a polite- sounding way, of course - at the same time! That is what I define as a diplomat!"  
  
"Yes, well, I have a different definition. A diplomat to me is nothing more than a fancy way to say 'formal tactician,'" Alley stated as she started off down the road. "See you tomorrow, Ghakar."  
  
"Ha, ha, ha, good day to you, Alley. Heh, heh, heh." Ghakar waved good-bye as continued to chortle as he went back to arranging his wares.  
  
A soft breeze blew through the purple, blue, and red leaves of various trees, reaching onward to the stables where M'Kal was standing. Sniffing the breeze, he could tell that it came from the southwest. Smiling to himself, he went to ready Avalon. Feeling the soft pad of Terran mulch under his feet, he chose the path to Avalon's stall. Standing ten feet tall behind the gate was a horse, huge by Terran comparisons, covered in black hair from his head all the way to his soft, glossy tail. Most people would call him part of the workhorse breed, for his build gave an air of superior strength. Avalon leaned his head out to touch M'Kal on the forehead.  
"I wonder where she will take you today," M'Kal asked the black stallion. Alley had named the horse after reading about the Terran King Arthur. Alley seemed to feel at rest when she was with Avalon, meaning a ride with him was her resting place, just as the real Avalon was King Arthur's resting place.  
Sniffing around him, Avalon seemed to be able to tell that Alley was coming without M'Kal's question needing to be asked. Unlatching the gate, M'Kal led Avalon out of his stall to the field. When he returned, he heard light footsteps coming towards the house. He knew it was she, for the footsteps were in the light yet strong and alert way that he had taught her. Smiling to himself, he quietly grabbed a nearby stick, and as he straightened up and turned the corner, he threw the stick with a sharp flick of his wrist towards the girl.  
The girl, on the other hand, seemed not to notice the airborne stick. Then, she suddenly caught the stick in her right hand and returned the attack just as quickly. Her position implied that nothing had happened, but her eyes were full of diligence, taking in all details present so that she might use them to her advantage, should another attack arise.  
  
"Excellent," whispered M'Kal in Klingon, stepping towards the girl, who had now relaxed, yet still somewhat alert.  
  
"And you as well," Alley replied. "How did you know it was me?"  
  
"I smelled faras, particularly two faras, on the breeze that is blowing from the southwest. Only one who is coming to ride would come this way, and Avalon is the only horse in my stables that loves faras. You are also the only person whom Avalon will let ride him. I then concluded it to be you."  
  
"Your logic is well, I see."  
  
"Ah, yes, and your precision is the same. You gripped the stick at the very same placed that I had. You have learned well. Now, I do believe that you are here on your own free will, not on your father's." He had hit the mark. Alley rolled her eyes in that way of hers that she did whenever no one would listen to her views.  
  
"Father wants me to undergo Kolinahr at some point in my adult life, so I have plenty of time. Mother agrees, and Avak is, of course, following in Father's footsteps. And I happen to like being the black sheep of the family." Alley picked up the blanket which hung over Avalon's stall and threw it over the horse.  
  
"Ha, ha. You sound more like a human every day. First, you like something, meaning you used an emotion; then you use a metaphor. Shall we just move to Terra, you and I?"  
  
"Actually, I wish to go into the Federation. Starfleet, in particular." Alley strapped Avalon's bridle around his head, carefully avoiding M'Kal's eyes.  
  
"Ahhh," M'Kal said, shaking his head. "You know what your family will say about that."  
  
"Yes, I know they want me to go to the Vulcan Science Academy, but I've got two hundred years to live. Since I'm only half-Vulcan, shouldn't only one hundred years be devoted to being a Vulcan?" Finished with preparing for her ride, Alley had turned to M'Kal, her teacher and advisor.  
  
"Ahh, don't tell me, tell--"  
  
"You know he won't listen. He'll just yell at me in that polite, diplomatic, logical, Vulcan way and then go meditate until the sun rises again."  
  
As this conversation unfolded, M'Kal and Alley had walked to the field, and she was now sitting in the grass, pulling up grass as she described her father's yelling. Listening to the eight-year-old half- Vulcan pour out her emotions to him, M'Kal laughed softly to himself. Alley defied the Vulcan way of total logic, wanting to be a mix of human emotion and intuition and Vulcan logic.  
  
"Avalon wishes to be ridden before you go, so I suggest you do it now. I estimate that you only have two hours before you must attend to your lessons."  
  
"Okay. And it's two point six eight three hours, to be exact," she replied roguishly. Then she called Avalon and leapt up onto his back, turning him towards the woods before both spirited away. M'Kal heard Avalon's hoof-beats fade away and turned back toward his house.  
  
Alley sprinted down the wide street, holding the z'hok stick close to her arm as she pumped her limbs for power. Turning right down the street, a castle appeared in her line of sight. It was a castle from the early days of Romulus, built nearly three centuries after a group of Vulcans had split off from the rest of Vulcan to live a life different from the one proposed by Surak. Now, the castle was an academy, with students both young and old. Alley had started at three years of age-the lowest age accepted-and had showed a great interest in the Romulan history and ancient culture. Starting as a P'Nov, or pre-novice, she had at first been teased, for she had been, and still was, both the only Vulcan and the only human, because of her split heritage, to have ever attended the V'Akhar Academy. But the teasing died down fairly quickly, for Alley had risen to the top of her class within a few days.  
  
Although she blossomed in the Romulan culture, her family regarded her as a slight outcast, since her mother, father, and brother had all been born and raised on Vulcan around Vulcans. Avak, Alley's brother, had left with her father and mother to Vulcan, to enter into the Science Academy. Alley had chosen to remain on Romulus with M'Kal as her guardian. Remarkably skilled in the Klingon martial arts, the bat'leth, and the kh'tarah, the Romulan form of fencing, she was nearly invincible in combat with her Vulcan precision and strength. But her mind was also strong, with her Vulcan logic leading the way. In school, she acted liked a Vulcan scholar; in combat she was a Klingon warrior. But every once in a while, when her spirit needed it, she contained her Vulcan logic and Klingon teachings and let her human emotion run wild.  
  
"Can't catch me!" Alley waved her z'hok stick in the air, careful not to drop the ball which was wrapped in the net near the top of the z'hok. Rounding the corner to where her faithful horse was standing by the old town tree, she whispered in the old Romulan language, "On, Avalon, on!" Avalon charged on, with Alley deftly maneuvering him through the obstacles that lay in their path. Behind them, a Romulan and two Klingons followed, also on horseback. The Romulan was steering his horse back and forth in front of the two Klingons' horses, so they would not catch up on Alley. Hearing the victory whoop, all three boys slowed to a halt and waited for the victorious Vulcan to return. The two Klingons slid down from their horses, exhausted.  
  
"Next time, it should be Alley versus all," one said, putting one hand out to lean on his horse. The other, placing his now half-empty water- bottle back into his belt, shook his head in agreement.  
  
"Aww, come on, K'Rohk," the Romulan replied, referring to the first Klingon, "you can't be saying that a noble Klingon such as yourself could be beaten by a lowly half-Vulcan like Alley."  
  
"Or maybe," K'Rohk replied with a grin on his face, "maybe we should have K'Qoh and I go against you, Ronan, and let Alley decide which team she should be on."  
  
"I would then pick Ronan over you," Alley replied, emerging from the trees behind them.  
  
"Why?" asked K'Qoh, mocking a look of surprise and outrage. "We Klingons are more advanced in fighting than a . . . lowly Romulan." K'Qoh waved his z'hok stick as he spoke, dropping his voice an octave lower to emphasize the "lowly Romulan."  
  
"True, but at least the 'lowly Romulan' can swing a sword," Alley replied with her roguish grin as she slid off Avalon.  
  
"Oh, now it's on!" K'Qoh tackled Alley on the ground. With a whoop and a laugh, K'Rohk joined them, and all three wrestled on the ground. Ronan looked on and laughed as Alley soon gained the upper hand and turned both Klingons over onto their backs. She threw her weight onto them, forcing their shoulders to lie flat on the ground. Holding them down with surprising strength, Ronan continued to taunt them.  
  
"Now, look at you two-beaten, by a human."  
  
"A HALF-human," K'Rohk gasped beneath Alley's hand.  
  
"Thank you," Alley replied, lifting her right hand off of K'Rohk. K'Rohk quickly got up and walked over to Ronan.  
  
"Hey! Hey! What about me?! Aren't you going to let me go?" K'Qoh gasped, struggling to free himself.  
  
"What do you think, Ronan? Shall I let the offender go?" Alley asked, smiling up at Ronan. Ronan struck a pose to indicate deep thought.  
  
"Hmmmm. I don't know. . ." K'Rohk put his hands on his hips and looked at Ronan with a scrutinizing look. "I guess you should-only because K'Rohk would attack me if I said 'no,' and then you'd have to get up anyway."  
  
"Logical," Alley replied and stood up, releasing K'Qoh. "Where to now?"  
  
"I know," K'Qoh said, moving swiftly to his dark blue horse, "Last one back is a dead targ!" He jumped onto his horse, with K'Rohk doing the same at his side, and sped off into the woods. Ronan and Alley leapt onto their horses and followed after them. After a few minutes, Alley had taken the lead, with Ronan following her in second.  
  
When Alley returned to M'Kal's home after a bat'leth combat session with her friends, she saw a light blinking on the computer indicating that there was an incoming message waiting for her. She walked towards it and touched a button on the screen to send the message to her room. She already knew that the message was from Vulcan, and therefore was going to be a recorded one.  
  
After placing her satchel around the hook near the door and her bat'leth on its proper shelf above her bed, she sat down at her computer console and asked the computer to show the message.  
  
"Hello, Alley," Avak's familiar face appeared on the screen. Avak contacted Alley once a week so they could talk to each other like they used to. For as far back as she could remember, Alley and Avak treated each other more like friends than siblings. Even though Avak had followed his father's logic and ways of life, he often talked with Alley, listening to her points. Avak still tried to turn Alley towards the Vulcan way of thinking, but he did it less forcefully. She in turn, listened to him as well, still keeping her way but considering his at the same time. That's what she liked about her brother. If only other people could be like him.  
  
"All is well here on Vulcan. Father has been discussing issues in the forum, and Mother, as always, supports him by his side. I have achieved a position in the Vulcan Diplomatic Corps. Only yesterday Ambassador Spock visited the forum. He has hinted of a trip to Romulus, to try to reunite the Vulcan and Romulan peoples, and asked Father about Romulan culture, so that he may blend in with the public and create an 'underground.' Perhaps you will be able to meet him.  
  
"I must leave at this, for Father asked me not to reveal all on this channel. Live Long and Prosper."  
  
The transmission ended, soon replacing Avak's face with the Romulan bird of prey holding the two sister worlds, Romulus and Remus. Alley sat back in her chair and sighed, knowing full well that she would have to tell her brother that she was preparing to leave for Starfleet soon. She leaned forward and asked the computer to record a message.  
  
"Hello, Avak. My studies and health are well. I still have far to go to reach the status of High Initiate. I am sorry that I will not be able to perhaps meet Ambassador Spock, for I am planning to travel soon. Besides, tell him to start in the capital; there will be plenty of people there that will listen to an 'underground' plan; then he should try to find the V'Ahkar Academy, for K'Ehyna would be a logical choice for a base, since so many people here do not wish for the Romulan military lifestyle. Live Long and Prosper." She then ended her transmission on that note. Avak would know where she was planning to travel; she didn't dare say that she was planning to join Starfleet on a Romulan channel, else she would be captured and interrogated on Federation information and no way or chance to ever get off Romulus. After she ended the transmission, her keen, pointed ears picked out sounds of metal banging against metal. Trained by M'Kal to deduce exactly what made what sounds and from which direction the sound was coming, she concluded that the metal sound was not of bat'leths touching, but of metal pots and pans hitting a surface. She got up from the terminal and proceeded toward the kitchen, where she saw that M'Kal was indeed preparing food. He was softly humming an old Klingon song while chopping up herbs and preparing the meat.  
  
"Strange," Alley muttered as she entered.  
  
M'Kal picked up her muttering, soft as she did it. "What is strange?" he inquired, not even turning around.  
  
"A Klingon-a blind Klingon, at that- is standing in a kitchen, chopping up herbs, and humming a lullaby. I just never thought that a Klingon would be so peaceful," Alley replied with her now too familiar roguish smile.  
  
"Well, I think it is strange that a Vulcan-a Vulcan born and raised on Romulus, at that-would make such an illogical assumption," M'Kal answered. He turned around with a plate in each hand. His eyes were white, instead of the normal Klingon brown, though that was the only thing that would conclude his blindness. He had learned how to use his senses so well that he could walk almost anywhere and do just about anything as if he still retained his sight. And so, he had passed those skills of the senses on to Alley, his apprentice in the Klingon and Romulan arts of combat.  
  
After sitting down to the table and filling his plate, M'Kal asked, "So, what did Avak have to say about Vulcan this time?"  
  
"The usual. He met Ambassador Spock in the forum."  
  
"That doesn't seem usual." Although he couldn't see, M'Kal could tell Alley was giving him her you know what I mean look. "And you replied?"  
  
"Yes; I told him that I was planning to leave Romulus soon."  
  
M'Kal paused for a minute. "Ah, Alley, you do know that once you join Starfleet, it will be very hard to get transport back here, and our communications will have to be short."  
  
"Yes, I know," Alley answered, tired of hearing the same response over and over again. "I plan to take the Orion."  
  
"I will not say anything."  
  
Putting her fork down, Alley gave M'Kal another annoyed look. "I know I can get across the border."  
  
"Knowing and doing are two very different things."  
  
"I know what I'm doing. I'll just tail a freighter."  
  
"Then I suggest you do it two days from now, for the V'Dra is leaving for Ferenginar. From there, you should be able to leave for Federation space."  
  
"Okay," was all Alley said.  
  
"But you are delaying your chance to achieve the status of High Initiate."  
  
"Oh, Ronan, I've already told you; I've got two hundred years to live, and I want to experience my human side first. Then I will join you on your quest for Kolinahr." Ronan gave Alley a strong look for joking about Kolinahr. Alley giggled at Ronan's strong reaction to her joke.  
"You know, you're a lot like Avak. Come with me, and I'll drop you off at Vulcan," Alley giggled again, knowing Ronan took the Vulcans seriously.  
  
"But what will you do when pon farr comes around?"  
  
Alley was walking with Ronan down the path to the Terran equivalent of Alchemy class. It was the day before the morning on which Alley would leave behind the V'Dra for Ferenginar and later Starfleet. Ronan was closer than a friend to Alley, more like a brother, particularly since she had bonded with him during her pon farr when she was younger.  
  
"Pon Farr is strong when it is experienced by males. Females do not die if they do not mate. All I have to do it meditate for a day or so. I'll be fine."  
  
"But --"  
  
"I'm going, and I'm not going to change my mind."  
  
"It's just,--" Ronan paused as they reached the shade of the great flaros tree standing in a corner of the courtyard.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well,"-Ronan fidgeted about-"it's just that you had a pretty hard time getting people around here to trust you, let alone like you."  
  
"Ah, and you think people in the Federation and Starfleet will not only distrust me, but that they will hate me to a certain point, am I right?" Alley gave him one of her looks as she tossed her shoulder-length hair about her in a girlish fashion. "Trust me, I can handle it."  
  
"Alright, Alley." Ronan turned to face her as he stepped closer. "Maybe it's just my male aggressiveness kicking in. You know, just in case you just happen to find another boy over there," Ronan smiled. Then he leaned his head down a little and they nuzzled for a few seconds.  
  
Alley smiled and said, "I better get to Alchemy, and I'm pretty sure that Master Dhahran won't be pleased if you're late for Ancient Runes." Ronan released Alley, and she walked around the tree to the doorway that leads to Alchemy. As she walked, her mahogany-colored hair swished from side to side, and her robes twirled about her in a way that made her look like a maiden girl out of a medieval fantasy. Then Ronan turned and continued down to Ancient Runes. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
"Fire photon torpedoes!"  
  
A silent death was a terrible way to die. As the red balls of energy zoomed toward the glossy, green Warbird, Commander Hunter and his crew watched in agony. The bridge was on fire, and people were running about, repairing lost conduits, pulling injured to safety, and restoring crucial systems. If those torpedoes missed, it could mean the end of the U.S.S. Taledon and its crew.  
  
But the torpedoes hit their mark, ripping through the Warbird's hull in silent terror. Of course, Hunter couldn't hear the Warbird being ripped apart, piece by piece, but he knew its crew could. The photon torpedoes, aimed at the Romulans' engines, tore through to the center, racing each other as they ran. Vivid flashes of red and yellow blazed across the wings, meeting in the middle and combining to form a huge explosion.  
  
"Get us out of here!" Hunter yelled. As the Warbird dived from view, the Taledon hauled aft to put some distance between it and the rupturing Romulan vessel. Hunter returned his gaze to the viewscreen as the helmsman did an about turn to look at the final moments of the battle. Hunter and his crew stopped everything to gaze at the dying Warbird, a grand sight of the sleek, green vessel smoldering in reds and oranges as it finally burst into a cloud of dust and debris. Hunter shook his head at the loss of the Romulan crew and took a minute to honor those lives. Then, as he rose from the chair, he surveyed his own crew to see what damage the late Warbird had dealt.  
  
The aft stations were smoldering in smoke; some of the port and starboard stations were still sparking, but they would be repaired in time. Medical officers were rushing to and fro, carrying or helping wounded and carrying med-kits and hypos. Some of the ensigns at the aft stations had grabbed fie extinguishers and were spraying the terminals and conduits along the starboard side of the bridge. The lieutenants manning the helm and ops stations were running races with their fingers over their consoles, trying to keep up with the damage and casualty reports coming in from all over the Galaxy-class starship.  
  
Well, that wasn't completely true. The Taledon was a Galaxy-class starship, but it had a fighter bay attached to it and few other adjustments as well.  
  
No doubt everyone down in the fighter bay was busy, too.  
  
"Well done, Commander, well done."  
  
Calmly, Hunter turned toward the tactical station behind the captain's to chair to find the captain himself standing there. Captain Eir Vidar, a Norseman, was a stocky fellow, much like the chief medical officer, Doctor Samuel O'Conner. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a wise smile on his face, Captain Vidar looked like Hunter wise grandpa that Hunter would run to every time he wanted a story told when he was a little kid.  
  
Hunter smiled back and replied, "Not as well as you would have done, sir."  
  
"Only because I have had more experience with these simulations." Vidar walked down the port ramp towards the center chair. "Computer,"- followed by a beep of computer acknowledgement-"end simulation." The computer beeped again and returned the viewscreen to the normal field of black with stars dashing along as the Taledon whipped by at warp six. The damaged conduits would remained severed and ruptured, as the computer was programmed to deliberately open conduits as if the ship really was being attacked so the crew could have plenty of practice at repairs. So, unfortunately, would the burns that the wounded crewmen received remain until healed.  
  
The comm padd on the arm of the center chair whistled. Hunter glanced down to see from whom it was coming and grinned. Still grinning, he turned back to Vidar and said, "It's for you."  
  
Rolling his eyes at his first officer, Vidar tilted his head towards the ceiling and answered the call, "Yes, Mister Balder?"  
  
"How many times do we have to do these, these, simulations?!" Chief Engineer, Lieutenant Commander Balder nearly yelled through the comm link. Hunter winced a little and twisted his finger in his ear.  
  
Giving his chief helmsman a scolding look, Vidar replied, "That will be the last one until we leave Starbase twenty-seven. Would that be alright?"  
  
Knowing he had no choice anyway, Balder agreed and disconnected.  
  
"Sir," interrupted the ensign at the tactical station, "we are approaching Starbase twenty-seven."  
  
"On-screen."  
  
As both Hunter and Vidar turned to gaze at the viewscreen, Starbase twenty-seven slowly shifted into view. At the helm, Lieutenant Decker maneuvered the Taledon into the range of an opening to the shuttle-and-ship bay. Next to him at ops, his best friend Lieutenant Taran silently worked swiftly at managing the incoming damage, casualty, and repair reports.  
  
Although the Taledon is considered a Galaxy-class Starship, it did not look it. The bridge was a combination of the Constitution-class and the Galaxy class. The three chairs in the center were in front of and slightly below a curved tactical station, with ramps leading down both sides. Behind the tactical station were the aft stations, as was normal on a Galaxy-class Starship. The row of stations paused at the aft turbolifts and continued on around the bridge, eventually ramping down to connect by a small bridge- like walkway under the viewscreen. On each side, right under the last square of platform before the stations ramped down, was a doorway; one led to the Ready Room, the other to the Observation Lounge. Hidden in alcoves near the aft part of the side stations were two other turbolifts, one on each side. The helm and ops stations were switched when compared to Galaxy- class starships, with the helm terminal on the left of the captain's chair, and the ops on the right. Both of the helm and ops stations were what the fighter crews called triterminals-the station was not only in front of the crewman, but also extending to the right and left sides. Between the helm and ops stations was a third triterminal, used in emergencies if either or both of the helm and ops station went down, one person could retake control, but most of the time it was used by the captain to communicate silently by computer with the crew when their opponent was listening in.  
  
"Sir," the ensign at the tactical station said again, "Admiral Foreman is hailing us." "Put it in the Ready Room." Vidar motioned for Hunter to follow him and walked to the doors leading to the Ready Room.  
  
The Ready Room on regular starships consists of a small room with a desk, a small couch, and a few chairs, mainly used by the captain. Sometimes one has a fish tank and a replicator, but the Taledon was usually too busy for necessities like those to be used often. Still, the Ready Room was usually heard of as a small room for the captain to relax in while still close to the bridge.  
  
On the Taledon, however, someone would think he had walked into the Observation Lounge by mistake. A long, black table was in the center of the room, with the normal viewscreen at both ends of the room and the long row of windows looking out to the stars. In the showcase on the inside walls of both the Ready Room and the Observation Lounge were trophies from fighter- flying competitions and models of other ships. The chairs around the table could almost be considered chairs; not nearly as comfortable and cozy as those of regular starships, but more like swivel stools with backs and arms, but no legs. Instead, the stools were attached to the table, easily folded into flat seats and stored in and removed from alcoves in the edge of the table. The reason for this was mainly because when the captain met with his senior staff, he did it in a crisis, so they didn't sit down when standing would do just fine.  
  
Both men turned toward the viewscreen as they walked in; Vidar stood in his so-called "favorite" position, which was in the at ease position with his hands clasped behind his back; Hunter pulled out a stool, turned it around, unfolded the stool and half-sat down-one leg folded up on the stool, and one leg down just touching the floor. Admiral Foreman's round face appeared on the screen, smiling at the sight of his old Academy friend.  
  
"Welcome to Starbase 27, Eir. Tired of roaming the stars, Diancecht?"  
  
Vidar laughed at his friend's nickname for him. Vidar's first name, Eir, was also the name of the Norse god of medicine. Foreman, although completely of North American descent, was born in a former Welsh country, so he called Vidar, Diancecht, who was the Welsh god of healing and medicine.  
  
"Not yet, Dylan," Vidar countered. Vidar called Foreman Dylan in return; Dylan being the Welsh god of the sea, as the admiral was in charge of many ships sailing the stars. "What is it now-a new Romulan ploy, or perhaps a Cardassian mishap?" Foreman frequently sent the Taledon out to the farthest reaches of the Federation border, knowing that its crew could handle themselves that far from help.  
  
"Perhaps. The U.S.S. Ajax has spotted a few strange sub-space disturbances- those that are strangely close to the disturbances picked up by a cloaked vessel."  
  
Hunter smiled behind Vidar, leaning further back. Vidar looked back and saw that his first officer was intrigued, then faced the viewscreen again and said, "We'll take it."  
  
"Would've made you do it anyway. If it is a cloaked Romulan ship, then we'll need a ship that can handle a big confrontation."  
  
"Alright, we'll leave immediately. Vidar out." The viewscreen blanked out, leaving Vidar and Hunter alone again.  
  
Vidar turned to his first officer and before he could say a word, Hunter smiled and said, "Increase to warp nine?"  
  
Vidar smiled at the swift thinking of his chief helmsman, remembering why he had picked Hunter as his first officer after Vidar's former captain, Captain Siero, had retired. Vidar nodded and walked out of the Ready Room, knowing Hunter was right behind him. Once on the bridge, Vidar ordered Lt. Decker to plot a course for the U.S.S. Ajax's position and to proceed at warp nine when ready.  
  
As the Taledon turned and backed out of the bay, Vidar called up Chief Engineer Balder on the pad in the arm of his captain's chair to tell Balder that he was to ready the Taledon for a possible Romulan confrontation. Just as he finished transmitting the information through the computer to Main Engineering, Vidar felt the ship jump to warp, and as he leaned back in his chair and gazed at the viewscreen, he envisioned the adventure that lay ahead.  
  
"If you ask me, sir, I think she has potential." Geordi LaForge stood in front of Captain Picard in his Ready Room.  
  
Standing on LaForge's left was Commander Riker. Riker had a disbelieving look on his face and stood with his arms crossed over his chest. LaForge had excellent points to prove that she would be a good choice for the Enterprise, but he had one big doubt.  
  
"I still think it's risky to let a Romulan run free on the Enterprise," Riker repeated, glancing at LaForge.  
  
"I don't think I would let her run free, Number One." Picard leaned forward in his chair and looked at Lt. Cmdr. LaForge again. "Explain your reasoning."  
  
Geordi gave a big sigh and began his report. "She graduated as valedictorian of her class and had been that way ever since her first year. She's gotten numerous awards and superior recommendations from her professors for her studies. She built not only one, but three starship replicas in the holodeck for her final in Ship Engineering Studies. She was so good she finished two years ahead of her original class."  
  
"But that could just be her Vulcan heritage kicking in," Riker interjected.  
  
"Agreed," said Picard. "Go on, Mr. LaForge."  
  
"She is unusual in the respect of how most Vulcans act. She does show her emotions as freely as you or I do. But her professors say she uses them to her advantage." Riker gave Picard a 'Told you so' look. Geordi noticed it and continued. "That's not what I mean, Captain." Picard looked at LaForge as if he was waiting for Geordi's explanation.  
  
"She uses her emotion to her side's advantage, and that side usually belonged to the Federation."  
  
"Usually?" Riker unfolded his arms and took a step closer towards the desk. "What do you mean 'usually'?"  
  
"Her professors noted that if you tried to gain information on the Romulan government or military, she wouldn't give it to you. Also, she defended any insults directed at Romulans." "Well, I guess she does have some faith," Riker replied sarcastically.  
  
"The Academy counselor, a full Betazoid, said that Lt. Falan had no intentions or feeling to harm the Federation or Starfleet in any way. She said that the lieutenant had wanted to maybe change the Federation peoples' thoughts about the Romulan Empire, but she wouldn't try to help one side defeat the other."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. LaForge. I'll think about your points when it comes to making a decision." LaForge didn't look too happy, but all he said was "thank you" and walked out the door.  
  
Picard then turned to Riker and said, "You still think she can't be trusted?"  
  
"Oh, I think she can be trusted," Riker replied, "But only that she can be trusted to turn us over to the Romulans." He moved to the spot where LaForge had been standing seconds ago and gave a look of defiance.  
  
"Well, I'm agree with you--in the back of my mind," Picard added after seeing his first officer's hidden delight. "But I think that if we use the right amount of caution, she could be a good engineer aboard the Enterprise."  
  
"So you're letting her on?"  
  
"Yes, but I think that when she comes onboard, I'll have Counselor Troi there-just in case," Picard said as he got up and circumvented the desk.  
  
"Agreed, and I'd also like to be there-just to make sure if I'm right or not," Riker replied with a more cheerful look on his face as he and Picard exited the Ready Room.  
  
Alley sat on her bed in her quarters, looking around her room. Her clothes had been packed into the two little suitcases lying on her bed beside her. Her little personal things like her three-dimensional chess set, Vulcan logic puzzles, and even a few Terran books about medieval fantasies had been stowed away in another case, a little larger than the two that held her clothes. Both her bat'leth and her kh'tarah had been left out, since she would carry them.  
  
She had saved a small shoulder bag for her padds, all 147 of them in various colors, which contained everything from her studies to personal interests to her logs and journals. But there were only seven silver padds, which were the very first padds she ever owned. These special padds contained her drawing and journals from Romulus. One of them was entirely devoted to the strange ship that she had seen orbiting the Romulan system eleven years ago when she had been eight Federation standard years old. It contained her drawings and notes of that ship, and when inserted into her personal tricorder, it displayed a small image of the ship.  
  
Throughout her years at Starfleet Academy, she had run into all sorts of distrust and doubts about her faith to the Federation. But she had overcome them by looking back on that one night when she saw the starship. She had vowed from that night the she would not only find out what ship it was, but to serve on that ship, or to serve under one of its crew. Now she was about to board a ship as respected to the Federation as the mysterious Constellation-class ship had been to her: the U.S.S. Enterprise-D. Alley had applied to an engineering position on that ship, but she had never expected to be selected to go. Many people still had doubts about her loyalty, and no doubt that an additional one thousand people would do the same. Sometimes she just wanted to drag those people out to Romulus and hold them there for a year or so to see the real life of Romulans, not the lies that Starfleet tells them. Many people had only met a Romulan near the Neutral Zone, and many encounters had been battles. Alley's theory on judging a person's character was to see both sides of that person-in both good and bad situations. If you only see a person in bad situations such as battles, then you'll never see his good side, just his anger while he's in his defensive mode—especially when you see him as an enemy. Unfortunately, Alley seemed to be the only person with this theory, despite the Federation's claims to welcome anybody with open arms.  
  
Sighing and bracing herself for the new journey to trustworthiness, Alley got up form her bed, slung her shoulder bag over her shoulder and her bat'leth onto her back, tucked her kh'tarah into her belt, and grabbed her two other bags. Then, taking one last look around at her quarters, she left for the transporter room.  
  
Troi could feel that Riker was in a somewhat good mood as he walked into the Enterprise transport room. He smiled at her and asked if she was ready.  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied.  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
Troi knew exactly what Riker was asking her about. He was asking if Troi believed that Lt. Falan would be good or not.  
  
"I think you'll have to wait until she gets here for my opinion."  
  
"Alright." Riker turned to the transporter operator and said, "Energize." A humanoid figure shimmered on the transporter pad, slowly dissolving into a Vulcanoid. Troi could see the surprise on Riker's face; clearly he didn't picture Lt. Falan to be as pretty as she looked. Then it was Troi's turn to be surprised, for as the figure became clearer, a bat'leth was seen on Lt. Falan's back. Clearly, Lt. Falan had more to be told than what was in her personal file.  
  
Once the transporter sequence was complete, Lt. Falan looked around her and turned to her left to step off the transporter platform. She walked toward Troi and Riker and gave polite nods to each, following each nod with a "Commander," to Riker and a "Counselor," to Troi. Riker looked a bit surprised when Lt. Falan acknowledged Troi by her position; no doubt, she would have looked up the captain and first officer, but the counselor?  
  
"I talked to her before she beamed over," Troi whispered to Riker.  
  
"Right," Riker replied. Turning to Lt. Falan, he said, "Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Lieutenant. As you already know Counselor Troi, she will lead to your quarters."  
  
"Thank you, sir. I hope my stay aboard the Enterprise will be a pleasant one."  
  
Engineer indeed, thought Troi. The way she talks you would think she was a diplomat.  
  
"This way, Lieutenant."  
  
Troi led the young Vulcan from the transporter room down the corridor. After arriving at a turbolift, Troi was about to start up a conversation to see if Riker really was right about her or not, but the lieutenant got there first.  
  
"I suppose you're going to ask me whether I intend to pass Starfleet information to the Romulan Empire or not, right?"  
  
Surprised by the Vulcan's quick perception, Troi decided not to hide anything. "Let's just say that some people have a few doubts about you." As they stepped into the turbolift, Troi added, "How did you know?"  
  
"Why let a Betazoid counselor lead me to my quarters when a simple security guard would do?"  
  
Troi bowed her head a little and replied, "I see your point."  
  
A few more moments of silence.  
  
"You're very perceptive. You should be a diplomat."  
  
Lt. Falan snorted. "Everybody says that. I guess it's just that I don't want to sit around and talk all the time."  
  
"Some diplomats stand and talk."  
  
Lt. Falan looked at Troi and laughed. It was a strange sight to Troi; to see a Vulcan laugh, but Troi couldn't help herself to stop from giggling a little, too.  
  
The turbolift doors opened, and both walked out into the corridor. Troi then started to ask Lt. Falan about her hobbies and interests. It turned out that she had many different interests, from Romulan fencing to the Klingon martial arts to horseback riding. As long as Lt. Falan talked, she seemed more and more human and less and less Vulcan.  
  
When they arrived at the Lieutenant's quarters, they walked in and Troi observed as Lt. Falan looked around.  
  
"Wow, these are much bigger than the ones I had on Starbase 37." Alley set her bags on a nearby chair, and carefully placed her bat'leth on the table. "Thanks for taking me here," she said as she turned back to Troi.  
  
Troi really didn't see the harm in her. The notes from the Academy counselors had been right; she really wasn't going to try to hurt anybody. The only thing that Lt. Falan was guilty of was being different than most Vulcans. Troi just hoped that Riker and the others would see the same thing and understand. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
So, this is what a starship is like, Alley thought to herself.  
  
Alley had been on the Enterprise for six months, the required minimum for a post on a fighter starship. That had been Alley's goal, but now she found a starship as welcome as "battlegrounds" that M'Kal had trained her on long ago on Romulus.  
  
To be truthful, it had been as Alley had expected; people were cautious of her, avoiding her or looking away when she caught them staring at her. Alley had just shrugged it off, going about her business as usual. Alley had sensed a strong feeling-a mix of repugnance and distrust-in Commander Riker when she first met him in the transporter room. He had stood quite stiffly, and regarded her with a cautious eye. That feeling had dwindled down, now that both had gotten used to each other, but it was still there. His orders to her at the helm had a bit of bitterness to them, as if Riker would have her confined to quarters if it weren't for Captain Picard.  
  
Yes, the captain had thought that maybe Alley could make a fine officer after all, if she was just given a chance. Or at least, that's what Counselor Troi had told her.  
  
Counselor Troi had become Alley's friend, right from the start. Of course, Alley hadn't had that many friends, even now.  
  
Let's see, Alley ticked off her count in her head, Counselor Troi, Guinan, Lt. Worf is friendly in the holodeck and gym when engaged in the Klingon arts; Lt. Cmdr. Data is friendly to everyone; am I missing anyone?  
  
Four friends. Not that many considering the ship consisted of about one thousand people.  
  
One thousand twelve, to be exact, said her Vulcan side.  
  
Close enough, replied her human personality. Anyway . . .  
  
Alley got back to the helm controls, for if the ship started to go off course, Lt. Cmdr. Data would certainly notice, and then Cmdr. Riker would swoop down on Alley. Of course, he would only do that in his mind, Alley knew, because it would breach the military, Starfleet style to do it literally. He would actually ask her politely, with a slight touch of annoyance and bitterness in his voice, and then move on as she corrected her error.  
  
Deftly and lightly tapping the controls, Alley maneuvered the Enterprise into hailing and sensor range of the starbase.  
  
"Put us in standard orbit, Lt.," came Riker's voice from behind Alley.  
  
"Aye, sir," she replied as Lt. Cmdr. Data tapped his controls to send information to her station. Using that, she guided the ship into the requested orbit.  
  
"Sir," the gruff voice of Lt. Worf cut in, "the admiral is hailing us from the starbase."  
  
"On screen," replied Picard as both he and Riker turned to the screen. The admiral's face appeared on the screen. Picard was about to greet him, but the admiral got there first.  
  
"Hello, Captain. May I have a word with you in private?"  
  
Picard looked at Riker with a puzzled look and agreed to the admiral's request. After asking Lt. Worf to route the transmission to his Ready Room, he and Riker left to see what the admiral wanted.  
  
Must be important business, Alley thought, because usually they exchange the greetings and then catch each other later on in person. I wonder what is so important . . .  
  
It would be illogical to involve a lieutenant in such matters that require a private conversation between an admiral and a captain, Alley's Vulcan side cut in.  
  
I know; it's just that we irrational humans tend to have a little bit more curiosity then you ever-so logical Vulcans.  
  
Curiosity in matters which do not concern oneself is illogical.  
  
Oh, shut up. Alley could feel laughter coming from inside her, as if another part of her was watching this conversation between her Vulcan and human instincts. But Alley used her Vulcan techniques to contain the feverish laughter to a small smile.  
  
"And you want her as a guide?"  
  
Picard sat behind his desk, puzzled at the order that Admiral Haden had given him. Riker stood in front of the desk, with his arms crossed over his chest with a wary and cautioning look.  
  
Haden had told Picard of a possible defect on Romulus. Supposedly, this defect was giving false information to the Romulan Underground and true information about the Federation and Starfleet's positions to the Romulan military. Haden wanted Picard to go to Romulus to find and capture this defect since he had been on Romulus before during his mission to find Ambassador Spock.  
  
But Haden had also wanted him to take a guide, just in case.  
  
Riker shook his head in a clear no, warning: "I strongly think that that would be a bad idea," while strongly emphasizing the word bad.  
  
"Lt. Falan has an excellent background in Starfleet so far, and she would be the perfect choice as a guide, having grown up there," Haden replied. "I do admit that there is some risk involved, but I think Lt. Falan would do well."  
  
"What about Lt. Cmdr. Data?" Picard inquired, looking at Haden on the screen. "He was with me when we went to Romulus."  
  
"And we know he's trustworthy," Riker added.  
  
"Yes, but we will need him for something else," Haden said, leaning back in his chair.  
  
"Something else? You mean as a distraction?" Picard asked.  
  
"No, not exactly," Haden said. "Actually the defect found out about our intent to reveal him to the Romulan Underground, so of course he went running straight to the Empire. Before he left he had hinted of a plan to strike the Federation."  
  
"And you need the Enterprise to go and see if that plan is true. So, Lt. Falan and I will be the distraction." Picard resigned, looking disappointed.  
  
"Yes, Command thought that if we went ahead with the original plan, then the Romulans would be looking the other way."  
  
"I guess then that I can't exactly say 'no,' can I?" Picard resigned. Haden lightly shook his head and gave Picard a half-hearted smile.  
  
"I'm sorry, Captain, but orders are orders. Haden out."  
  
The screen went blank, and Picard looked at his first officer. "I think we'll brief the senior staff on this first, and then brief Lt. Falan," Picard said at last. Riker nodded in agreement, although Picard could tell that Riker didn't like the idea either. Picard had wanted to give Lt. Falan a chance at Starfleet, but he didn't actually to go on a mission with her as his only accompaniment.  
  
It had been six years since the last time the U.S.S. Taledon had been ordered to deal with cloaked Romulans. Vidar didn't seem particularly happy with this encounter either.  
  
He briskly walked down the bridge towards the helm station, pausing to punch in a destination. Lt. Decker looked over the course and laid it out, only pausing when the ship's new destination finally sank in. While adjusting the specifics, Decker glanced up at the captain, giving him a confused and inquiring look.  
  
"Yes, I know it's way out there," Vidar replied to his helmsman's unasked question, "but that's the way the wheel turns."  
  
"And I'm guessing the wheel coming from Starfleet has rolled on us," finished Cmdr. Hunter. Vidar glanced at his first officer and silently agreed. "So, where are we going?" Hunter piped, always the eager and helpful one, Vidar recalled.  
  
"Neutral Zone."  
  
"Really? We've haven't been there in a long time; why would they want us there?" As he sat down in his captain's chair, Vidar gave Hunter a glance that told him to think about it, and Hunter picked it up quickly. "So I take it that it's raining over there."  
  
"Of course it is," Samuel O'Connor filled in as he stepped from the turbolift. "Didn't you see the weather forecast?"  
  
"No, I was recovering from my beating in the gym," Hunter replied, looking over in the doctor's direction with a sarcastic yet roguish look.  
  
"Of course," Dr. O'Connor replied, feeling confident and just a little smug after his win over Commander Hunter in fencing. "The forecast for today is clouds of suspicion and white-hot lightning tempers."  
  
"What do Romulans look like when wet?" thought Lt. Taran out loud, with a hidden question inside.  
  
"The Romulans aren't that dumb, Taran," Decker cut in before anyone could answer. "You know they remembered to bring their cloaks with them."  
  
Despite the unwelcome orders to face the Romulans at the edge of the Neutral Zone, the bridge atmosphere was quite normal. Officers in the fighter fleet often talked in metaphors and with smiles, even as they went out to battle a formidable enemy. Only in the direst of times-like in the battle-did they act seriously and more like their deep-space exploring starship counterparts. The theory went that at any time, a fighter could be called out to a battle. In the case that that fighter happened to die in the battle, he tried to have as much fun as he could before his fate was completed.  
  
But in this silly banter, the fighters had created a code among themselves. They often used metaphors and codes, so if an enemy happened to be listening in, he would think it was all gibberish. Also, it helped provide a happier feeling to dismal matters.  
  
Even in the unspoken dialogue was a code. Most fighter captains and their officers could talk for hours on end-without grunting a single syllable. Just a look or simple nod could speak volumes.  
  
Many of the starship captains-those out in deep space, exploring- thought the fighter life was like a light switch turning on and off. Some fighter crews got as many as twenty crew members a week because of the casualties of defense, so some would think that relationships wouldn't last long enough to be deep enough for true friendship.  
  
The good part about this was that some enemies believed this as well.  
  
"Bridge to Engineering."  
  
"Aye, Balder here."  
  
"It's time for that rain check, Mr. Balder," Vidar said, remembering that day when the Ajax had detected something that looked awfully like a cloaked Romulan ship. The Ajax's sensors had been correct; there was a Romulan ship. Actually there had been four Warbirds. Vidar himself had to join the fighters in the fight outside the two starships. Captains often wanted to join the fight as a fighter right in the midst of fire, not as what they called a bystander-commander, or a commanding officer watching the battle from a safe spot. Despite this yearning, captains weren't allowed to do this unless there were no fighters left to dispatch.  
  
That battle had been a little bit more for the Taledon fighters to cope with. To give it credit, the Ajax had helped, but there was only so much that a starship could do. Fighters could weave in and out of enemy fire as if they were born to slip and slide. They could catch the crucial points of a battleship in a short burst of phaser fire before the fighters whisked away to safety.  
  
Unfortunately, most of the fighters had had a hard time finding that safe place. Vidar had lost twenty-six fighters, which is the most he had ever lost out of his battalion. A fighter battalion was different from the military definition; a fighter battalion was comprised of five companies, or one hundred twenty-five fighters. A company consisted of five teams, with each team containing five fighters. So in the end, Vidar had lost one man over one fifth of his fighter complement.  
  
The Ajax had suffered a lot of damage too, mainly damage to ship but not without their loss of men and women, be it less than the Taledon's. Because of this, Vidar had promised the Romulans to a rain check on the captain's comeback for this intrusion into Federation space.  
  
"Well, it's about time we got the chance to go back!" Balder replied. The chief engineer had agreed with Vidar that the Taledon crew would pay the Romulan back for their mischief. "I'll ready the weapons, shields, and drive," he answered to Vidar before Vidar could command him. Hunter smiled at the captain, silently assuring him that the crew would back him up.  
  
"How long until we reach the Neutral Zone?" Vidar asked Decker.  
  
"One hour, twenty-six minutes," Decker replied after a few seconds of calculation.  
  
"What to do for one and a half hours?" Vidar mumbled quietly as he leaned back in his chair.  
  
"You could wipe that smug smile off the good doctor's face for me," Hunter whispered, smiling as he leaned toward the captain.  
  
Vidar leaned back and whispered back in his best fatherly tone, "You would feel much better if you beat him yourself, Cmdr."  
  
Decker straightened and shot Vidar a look that seemed to say, "Yeah, yeah, I've heard it before."'  
  
Smiling at his first officer's reaction, Vidar relaxed, and both men turned their gazes to the main screen, both too anxious to do anything else but contemplate on the bridge, with only the blinks and bloops of the stations in the background and the endless stream of stars to guide them.  
  
Alley briskly walked along a corridor on her way to the Observation Lounge. Commander Riker had called her to discuss something only about a minute or so ago . . .  
  
"Actually, it was one minute, forty-three point two five eight six seconds."  
  
"I said about, which means 'around' or ' approximately.'"  
  
"I am aware of the various definitions."  
  
In her mind, Alley rolled her eyes, watching this conversation between her two natural cultures roll out before her mind's eye.  
  
Anyway, Riker's voice had seemed a bit too professional for Alley's liking. And, she had to admit, it was only right after her shift had ended- the shift on which she had witnessed the unusual lack of pleasantries between the admiral and the captain.  
  
Alley came to the turbolift and waited for it to arrive. Just as the doors opened, she heard footsteps behind her. She went through the doors and stepped back holding the doors open for the person behind her.  
  
Which just happened to be Commander Riker.  
  
Alley silently gulped and tried to maintain her nerves inside, while on the outside her Vulcan teaching went to work to conceal all traces of emotion.  
  
Riker turned and nodded to the young lieutenant and then turned back to the turbolift doors as the turbolift moved up to its destination.  
  
Standing there was unnerving for Alley. She didn't exactly fancy starting a conversation with the commander-for one, she didn't have anything to say, and two, every time he was near her, he seemed to be in a more serious mood than a talkative one.  
  
As the turbolift doors opened, Riker said curtly, "Follow me, Lt," and walked out onto the bridge. Alley did as she was bid, following the silent and moody commander-not across to the Observation Lounge as Alley expected, but down the ramp towards the captain's ready room.  
  
Uh, oh, Alley thought, this can't be good.  
  
Commander Riker stopped at the ready room doors and waited a few seconds to be recognized by the internal sensors. As the doors opened, he motioned for Alley to go in first.  
  
Captain Picard swiveled in his chair to face the lieutenant, Alley merely gazed at the captain with her best Vulcan look.  
  
By instinct, Alley began assessing the Captain. M'Kal had taught her to gauge everything around her whenever she felt uncomfortable, and boy, did she feel nervous now. Captain Picard was staring at her with a look that seemed to be a mix of several different emotions.  
  
Let's see, Alley ticked off all of the different messages in his gaze. There's judgement, yes, a lot of that; um, a little bit of confidence, finally, and . . .  
  
Dislike?  
  
It wasn't really the fact that he disliked her that surprised Alley, because, well, who didn't? It was that it was just dislike. It didn't really go far enough to be called hatred, just as if he would rather be doing something else.  
  
Well, something's got to be going on here, Alley thought to herself again. Riker was just about bathed in an aura of severe dislike for the Lt., while Picard merely sat here with a little dislike.  
  
And it annoyed Alley.  
  
"Sit down, Lt." Picard said, still gazing at Alley. Alley did as he said and returned her expectant gaze to him. Riker stood in the same spot, behind Alley with his hand on the back of her chair.  
  
And then they waited.  
  
Sometimes, I wonder what it's like to be completely human. Then you wouldn't have to worry about keeping your emotions and nerves hidden, Alley pondered.  
  
Then Counselor Troi walked in, nodded to both men as she approached and sat down on the couch behind Alley and Riker.  
  
Of course, Alley concluded, they will need to know if I am lying or not. So much for the trust and confidence in me.  
  
"Do you know anything of the Romulan Underground, Lt.?" Picard inquired, still gazing at her, but with his fingers laced on top of his desk.  
  
So this is why you have such a serious demeanor, Alley thought. Something must have gotten botched.  
  
"Yes, sir," Alley replied, noting both of her superiors' reactions to this. Even thought both concealed their surprise quite well, Alley could tell that neither of them had expected that response. Alley could feel with her sixth sense that Riker had looked at Troi, who, seen from the corner of Alley's eye, had nodded approval of Lt. Falan's statement.  
  
"There has been a situation that requests Starfleet's attention concerning the Romulan Underground," Picard went on, obviously choosing his words very carefully. Alley raised her eyebrow in a Vulcan fashion, indicating that she was listening. "Ambassador Spock has requested a Starfleet officer to come and meet with him."  
  
At this statement, both of Alley's eyebrows shot up. She was too intelligent to say the obvious question, so instead she answered it. "I suppose that means that all other options of communicating with Starfleet have been discarded," she stated, continuing in her Vulcan manner.  
  
"Yes," Picard replied, leaning back in his chair. For a second, Alley thought he seemed impressed, but then the notion flickered away. "Starfleet Command has picked me to go-"  
  
Because you've been there before, Alley thought.  
  
"-and you are to come as my guide."  
  
Although Alley contained her surprise, she had to give the captain credit for saying that. She had learned that her superiors, the ones on the starbase on which she had served before the Enterprise, had often told her it was just a mission that anyone could have done, and they had decided to give her some away-mission experience, giving a pathetic excuse that was as transparent as glass to Alley. But for her superior to actually admit that Starfleet Command had picked her out of the however-many-people-there- were that they could actually trust? That was a little too much for Alley to believe.  
  
"Sir, wouldn't Commander Data be a better choice?" Alley asked, knowing she was starting to push it.  
  
"Why would you say that, Lt.?" Riker asked with a warning in his voice, crisply enunciating the 't' in 'lieutenant' as Picard looked on, waiting for Alley's response.  
  
"Well, didn't he go with you to Romulus before?" Oh, yeah, Alley thought, I'm pushing it.  
  
Evidence of her thought was made clear by Riker's surprise. He jerked back as if he'd been slapped and walked around to Alley's left, turning so he was facing her.  
  
"And how do you know of this?" Riker barked.  
  
"My hometown has a strong connection with the Romulan Underground," Alley started.  
  
"I'm sure it does," Riker mumbled, looking at Picard.  
  
"And," Alley continued as if she had not heard Riker, "word was passed around about Ambassador Spock. Included in that word was something about a Starfleet captain. I merely assumed it would be you since the rumors were pointing towards the Enterprise. Then I concluded that Commander Data would be the best choice as a guide because of his superior cognitive and combative abilities."  
  
Riker was close to fuming, Counselor Troi was impressed and sitting with her arms folded across her chest, and Captain Picard leaned back in his chair, a somewhat amused expression on his face.  
  
"Yes, Lt.," Picard finally broke the silence, "but Starfleet believes you would be a much better guide, Romulus being your homeworld, of course." Alley merely nodded approval at this. "Since you know more than Starfleet thinks you do, you turn out to be the perfect choice after all." With that, Picard leaned forward. "You will report to sickbay at oh eight hundred hours tomorrow to prepare for this mission."  
  
Alley nodded again, waiting for the wave of disapproval from Riker. Surprisingly, Riker didn't say anything.  
  
"Dismissed."  
  
Alley got up from her chair, nodding at Riker and Troi saying, "Commander, Counselor," respectively and walked out of the room.  
  
When the doors finally closed after Lt. Falan, Picard dropped his diplomatic demeanor. He leaned back in his chair, silently sighing to himself. Riker still standing to the left of the Lt.'s chair, and Counselor Troi was waiting patiently on the couch as before. Then Riker finally broke the silence.  
  
"And she's not lying about any of this," he asked, posing the question at Troi.  
  
"As far as I can tell, no," Troi replied, standing up. "In fact, she was intrigued by some of your reactions."  
  
"Intrigued? What do you mean 'intrigued'?" Riker demanded, getting a little defensive.  
  
"She just seemed to expect that you weren't going to trust her very well," Troi replied, as if trying to explain to a three-year-old that he just couldn't have a cookie.  
  
"Which happens to be the one thing she thinks that I agree with," Riker turned to Picard, "even if this mission goes perfect."  
  
"Agreed, Number One," Picard replied. "Apparently the Romulan know a little more than we think they do. But I still have that hunch about her."  
  
"If you want my opinion, sir," Riker straightened and became a little more professional, "I think you should go with Data and leave Lt. Falan here."  
  
Picard nodded some and then said, "But my decision stands."  
  
Now Riker looked like he was fuming. But he kept it in like the military commander he was and merely nodded to Picard and walked out onto the bridge.  
  
Then Picard turned to Counselor Troi and asked, "Am I doing the right thing?"  
  
"I would think so," she replied. "Lt. Falan is very trustworthy to me. If you just trust her, I don't think you'll have any problems."  
  
"I sure hope so," Picard replied. 


End file.
